


Lyra’s Story

by Alyx_Silvermoon



Category: Greek Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21041237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyx_Silvermoon/pseuds/Alyx_Silvermoon
Summary: Sequel to Poseidon’s EyesHow did there come to be a mermaid below the waves who does not age? It starts with a death...





	Lyra’s Story

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for mentions of attempted sexual assault and for violence

Lyra was there the day her mother passed away. The doctors said it was because of the baby. Lyra knew her daddy wouldn’t be happy, she was supposed to have a little brother any day now, and instead she got no little brother and lost her mama. So she would stay with the pastor who came to bury mama, and his wife, until her daddy came back. He was a sailor, but was due back any day, since his ship mostly ran short trips for delivering supplies down the coast. With nothing left to do, Lyra sat on the stoop, tugging at one of her long blonde curls. She looked funny wearing all black, she usually wore light colors because of her pale skin and blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her mama had liked to put her in white, or a light blue. But mama was gone, and so she had to wear black until daddy came back. And so she waited on the porch, and watched the street in front of her, hoping for a carriage with her daddy in it to come take her home. 

She didn’t have to wait long. Her daddy cane within the hour, his clothing disheveled and his eyes sad. He already knew. Of course he did. That’s why he was there. Otherwise he wouldn’t gone straight home. Even though she was only rising ten, Lyra knew that. He always came straight home from his ship, ready to see her and her mama, and hoping for the day she’d have another baby, a boy this time, to take over his shopping business when he got old. But now, there was no mama, and there wouldn’t be a baby. 

“Lyra, princess, come here,” said her father. Being an obedient child, Lyra went to him and took his hand, then led him inside to where the preacher’s Wife was waiting. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Bishop,” he said when he saw her. “Thank you for watching my Lyra for me.”

“It’s not a problem, sir. She was very well-behaved, and her things are in the spare room.”

And that was that. Daddy collected her bags and they went home, and then Daddy let her change into her favorite blue dress with the white lace and the ribbons on the hem, and sent her out to the garden to play, and started muttering about a tailor. Lyra didn’t mind, though, because she was home, and even if Mama was gone, her home was where she felt safe. And everything would be okay. 

*****  
Three days later  
*****

A strange man arrived at the house, and Lyra’s daddy had her put one of his undershirts and breeches from when he was her age. Then the strange man made her all sorts of clothes, only they looked like boy’s clothes. Lyra wondered if her daddy was trying to surprise a boy at his shipping company. She knew he hired street boys sometimes, even younger than her, to help in the kitchen on the boat, or mop. He called them cabin boys. And he called the kitchen a galley, for some reason. 

After she had all sorts of clothes made, he had a barber come over, too. He had his own hair cut once a month, so she knew this barber. But daddy didn’t need a haircut, so she was confused. Then he had her sit down and had the barber cut off HER hair, til she looked like a boy. This made Lyra confused, and she cried, because Mama had always said that Lyra had the prettiest hair she’d ever seen, and Daddy took it away from her. And he was acting funny. He called her “Lyle” and “Son” instead of Lyra or princess. He was treating her like a BOY and she was confused. But he was spending time with her, and she liked that, so she didn’t complain. 

*****  
One week later  
*****

Daddy was taking her on his ship, something she’d always wanted. They were going on a long journey, since Daddy said he wanted to go to the New World to expand his business. It was a long journey, he said, but it would be okay. But he introduced her as “My son, Lyle,” and everyone called her “young man” and “Lyle” and “little boy.” And daddy said that’s who she was now. And not to tell anyone she had ever been anything else. So she didn’t. She washed the dishes and peeled potatoes, and she stayed out of the way, and when they called her “Lyle” she responded with a “yes, Sir,” and did what she was told. And it was okay. And she stayed near her daddy, except when he had to go inside for a meeting she wasn’t allowed in. And it was okay. 

*****  
One month later  
*****

This boat journey was taking forever. It was storming really badly, and they weren’t making any headway in their journey. But Lyra didn’t mind, except now some of the men were giving her and the other cabin boys weird looks and saying it had been too long since they’d seen women. That they hoped they saw mermaids, because at least then they’d be able to see a woman. But she was okay, and “Lyle” was the cook’s favorite cabin boy, because “he” was the most obedient and the quietest and the best help in the kitchen. And that was good. Until it wasn’t. After a few days, the cook started giving her funny looks, too. And then he started asking questions about things Lyra didn’t know about. And daddy said to ignore them, but Lyra didn’t know how. 

*****  
One week later  
*****

Cook had grabbed Lyra when she tried to leave the kitchen after her chores were done. He had ripped her pants down. And then he had stopped. And he had gotten angry. It had been storming for five weeks. And now he said it was her fault. He grabbed her and hauled her to the captain’s cabin, and she was kicking and screaming, and her pants were still down. And the captain said it was her fault they hadn’t been making any headway. And that they would throw her daddy overboard if he tried to fight them. And her daddy said the storm was all her fault. And they took her clothes away, and they tied her up, and they threw her in the water, a sandbag tied around her waist. 

And she was falling, or sinking. And she couldn’t breathe, and she was crying. And then...

She could breathe. And beautiful women were all around her, untying the ropes, as even more women swam toward the surface. And one of the women brought her a dress to put on, and she looked down after she put it on, and she had a TAIL. It was the same beautiful shade of blue as her eyes, the same color her mama had always put her in. And her hair was long again, and curly, and floating everywhere until one of the other women -no, she realized, not women, MERMAIDS- tied it back for her. And she swam to the surface with them, and they tilted the boat, and grabbed the men, and dragged them to the bottom. Lyra grabbed three. She got Cook first, drowned him, watched him thrash as she pulled him down. Then the captain. And then, she grabbed her father. He was terrified to see her. They all were. She had gills, and a tail, and she was ten, and angry, and fighting back. She drowned all three of them, and swam back to the surface, and dragged the cabin boys to lifeboats, and gave them oars, and the other mermaids helped her. The cabin boys had always been good to her, and they were relieved to be away from the men. The mermaids pointed the boys in the direction of a nearby island, and then they raided the ship for anything they might want, while it sank. And then, Lyra heard a voice. 

“Lyra Cooper,” it began, loud and booming and powerful. “You are my daughter now. Cooper no more, you are simply Lyra. A daughter of the ocean. Do as you will, only help your sisters when they need you.”

“Sir? Who are you?” She asked the empty waters, alone in the wreckage of the ship, as all the other mermaids had taken what they wanted and left, leaving all the cabin boys’ and Lyra’s possessions in a single cabin for Lyra to take or leave as she pleased. A tall, muscular merman appeared in front of her, smiling a bit. 

“I am Poseidon, king of the oceans. It is I who transformed you.”

“Poseidon...can I stay young?” Lyra looked hopeful, and Poseidon looked at her curiously. 

“Why would you want to do that, child?” His tone was not one of anger or disappointment, but of curiosity. He had never been asked that before. He looked her over, noticing the bruising on her arm from where Cook had grabbed her, and sat down on one of the crates the mermaids had left. 

“Because,” Lyra said with a feral grin “those men were terrified when I attacked them. After all, what is more terrifying to a man who would hurt a child, than for a child to fight back and win.” 

He had to admit that she was right, and so he nodded, and she felt something within her settle, and she never grew a day over ten, for her birthday had been the day before she was thrown overboard, and she was content. She remained down in her shipwreck, living alone for many many years, and only rising to the surface to avenge the other children harmed and thrown overboard. The boys were always sent off in a boat, and the girls were kept safe at the bottom of the sea, and they were her sisters, and they all cared for each other. And she was content. And all was well, for fifteen years. And then...a boy became a merman.


End file.
